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I thought at first that Midwestern Guy and Button Nosed Girl were divorcing, because he came without her, and then when she came a little later they hardly talked. Definite coolness in the way he was lifting his weights over in his space and she was over in hers. But when Amy was out getting a drink of water she approached him and took his hand, and a little later he tousled her hair. So I guess they just had a fight, and now they're okay. They were both still wearing their rings, I noticed.

After class Button Nosed Girl talked to Amy for a while, and I felt a surge of ridiculous envy. Are they friends now, or something? Then, BNG stayed in the exercise room and put in her own CD and started doing some kind of kickboxing routine. Is she an instructor? Hmmmm.

Blue Sweatshirt Guy was there, as focused as ever. He took off his sweatshirt. He's ripped.

Puppydog guy has his picture on the bulletin board for something. I'm glad he's getting some recognition within the organization.

There's a handsome black man I hadn't seen before, and I distracted myself during lunges wondering what the front of his T-shirt said. The back said "League Champions" and so I speculated for a while, without coming to any conclusions, what kind of league he was in. I'm leaning toward indoor soccer.

And did you see Stockbroker Guy? I almost didn't recognize him. He's not wearing that visor anymore. He grew a beard, and he looks bloated and strange. He doesn't look happy. I'm pretty sure he lost his job.

Hardcore Blonde was there, doing something on one foot lifting a big weight to the side and up over her head. Show-off.

The Redheaded Chick has been doing a lot of running. She was running hard on Wednesday and now again this morning. I wonder what she's training for? I wonder why she's running inside, and not outside? I notice she seems to be friendly with the freckle-faced brunette. She's friendly with everyone. She's got really good ponytail hair.

So after my time on the treadmill I was getting my things out of the locker room and Button Nosed Girl was blowdrying her hair and getting ready for work. She was dressed in brown pinstripe trousers and pointy-toed brown shoes. A little bit fancier than I thought. I wonder what she does? I bet she's a human resources manager. She told me to "have a good one." So now she thinks we're pals, I guess.

Yesterday I got an invitation to sail in a J/100 regatta up in Penobscot Bay, with a skipper I like very much. Sounds like a slam-dunk for me: one-design racing, in the most beautiful sailing venue around, with a good skipper, on a new J/100. Cool.

But on the Sunday of the regatta I am supposed to run a 10K. I signed up months ago. I haven't exactly been training, but I've had it in my head as a goal for a long time. Some friends of mine are doing it, although the friend I signed up with just told me she's dropping out. I don't particularly want to do it, but since I've picked it as a goal and a milestone, I am pretty resistant to dropping out.

I'm thinking I'll let myself go to the regatta if and only if I can come up with a replacement milestone/goal to do instead. Maybe I'll run 10K around Islesboro instead. Something like that.

Ran a 10k this morning, without any training. I walked some, and sweated like a pig, and this evening I am more tired than I should be. Since the sky is overcast, it doesn't look like there will be fireworks tonight, and I will curl up on the sofa and read.

One of my fitness goals is to be "socially fit," a term I made up a few years ago to mean being able to join my friends for anything they were doing that seemed like it might be fun. I don't want my body to get in the way of interesting experiences or social things. The 10k was this -- a couple of friends were doing it, and I said I'd join them, and a couple more friends joined me.

This coming weekend, at wedding #2 of the season, there's an ultimate frisbee match in the morning before the wedding. That sounds like fun, although I have never played before. In the past I wouldn't go to something like that. I get too self-conscious about the things that I'm not good at, my clumsiness and lack of speed or skill. But this year a buddy is going to give me a quick practice session teaching me how to throw and catch and I'm going to try to show up, and play along. Why not?

Neighbor and I got up this morning and did a fitness test -- the one that I gave to my sailors back in March. Whew! I'm pooped. We got the same total score, even though she outmatched me on the run and the plank and the wall sit. I did more crunches and pushups. We were pretty even and both of us are a little spacey now.

Spent the day so far mowing the yard -- the project that is always waiting to be done -- and planting seedlings and seeds in window boxes. About to do a bunch of invitations for a bridal shower I'm organizing. Tonight, grilling some meat and having drinks with a dear friend I've known since elementary school, visiting from NYC. Tomorrow, more yard work and some boat maintenance.

When I go to exercise class I revert to the maturity level of a high schooler. I have a girl-crush on the instructor, Amy. I love her. She's so fit. She's so nice. Where did she buy that tank top, I wonder? I want one like it. Did she lose a little weight? She smiled at me. She likes me. Maybe she just smiles at everyone. I wonder if she notices that I'm using heavier weights than her? I feel so strong. I'm lifting the most weights of anyone. Except that brunette beside me. How does she lift such heavy weights? It's ridiculous. I think she must be cheating. She doesn't go through the whole range of motion. She has great legs. Am I cuter? I think I'm cuter. But she definitely has better legs. But I lift more on the arms. Ha. I want arms like Amy's. I can't believe how long these lunges are going on. I can't believe how much that brunette can lift. She's smiling at me. I'm smiling back. She's nice, I guess. I still think she cheats. This is too much weight for me. I don't know if I can last. I have to last. Don't let Amy see how much I'm struggling, here. Concentrate. How does Amy do it? HA. The brunette shifted to her knees for pushups halfway through the first set and I stayed on my toes the whole time. Take that, Ms. Killer Squats. Where are your heavy weights now? I wonder if Amy noticed. I don't know about this haircut. Maybe I should grow it long again. Why can't I do lunges? I don't like that blonde in the back of the room. She looks mean. Is that guy on the chin up bar cute? I can't tell. Is he looking at us? He should come in here and try this. I bet it's harder than what he's doing. I should probably have heavier weights for these deadlifts. We're almost done. Maybe I'll say something to Amy after class. Maybe I'll tell her to have a nice weekend. That's what I'll do.

Daylight savings time is wreaking havoc with my routine. I can't wake up, it seems. I've only made one or two of my standing morning exercise dates this week, and even that was a sleepy slog. This morning I stumbled downstairs 10 minutes late and found Neighbor on my sofa, asleep. We made some tea and surfed online for shoes she could wear at her wedding, instead of lifting and doing yoga.

Part of it is that it's wonderfully light at night. I need to get the sailors off the water by 6:30 so they can derig their boats, change out of their drysuits, scramble into the van, and get back to campus in time for dinner. But there's always something to be done and I end up hanging around in the gloaming without realizing what time it is, and then have to speed south to my evening plans. With sailing season here, my social life is crammed into Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights, so I'm up later than usual, and often having a few drinks. And then, I can't get out of bed the next morning.

I feel pretty good. I want to keep lifting more, and I want to get better at running (faster, further). I'm signed up for a 10K in August and am vaguely hunting for a half-marathon. I'm also getting very curious about adventure races and triathalons, something that would force me to learn a new physical skill. Today Turboglacier and I made a pact to start playing tennis in May. It would be fun to do some rock climbing, outdoors on actual rocks, too. What am I missing?

On the testimonial of fellow Portland blogger Miss Bumptious, I decided to try downloading a workout from iTrain.com on Monday. I was really impressed. It sounds dumb, I suppose, to have a trainer talking to you on your iPod while you do your treadmill workout, but it was fantastic. Grace pushed me along for 40 minutes, told me what settings to have for speed and incline, and sent me up and down hills and through some intervals until she finally let me cool down. She ran me pretty hard, and I felt like a million bucks. I promptly downloaded a second 40 minute workout by her, which I did this morning. It was just as good as the first. Each workout has instructions for walkers, joggers, and runners, and she tells you what speed to be at for each group. I'm at the high end of the jogger group, but can't yet imagine getting through a workout at the "runner" speed. Something to aspire to. There's music playing in the background, and the 40 minutes zoom by. I'll probably download a 60 minute workout, too, just to increase my mileage a bit.

I also tried the strength workout. Although Nick's not as impressive a trainer as Grace, and wouldn't be appropriate for someone who is new to lifting weights (he doesn't describe form or give you much information about determining the right weight for you), it is surprisingly helpful to have someone counting, and moving you from rest periods back into the sets, and from one exercise to another. The workout was hard, good, and thorough, and it was great to offload the task of managing what I am doing next to a trainer.

Instead of doing a 25K ski tour, I ran 10 miles this morning. I feel like repeating that. I ran 10 miles this morning. Yep. Just went out of the house, ran to Mackworth Island and around it, ran back, ran up to Back Cove and around it, ran home. I didn't stop running, even though I wanted to on the way back from Mackworth Island (about mile 4) and again on the far side of the cove (about mile 7). I've never run that far before, and I'm pretty proud of myself. It was very do-able. I'm definitely tired and I can feel my legs, but there was no specific pain or sensitivity. I think weightlifting has helped me a ton. I felt strong the whole time. I have been running 3.5 miles once a week, and last weekend ran 5 miles, but I haven't been running distances or with any kind of training focus. Last time I was doing training runs I ran 4 times a week and built up to my longest run of 9 miles before shin splints stopped me. All that running was never as pain free as today -- there were always little quirky pains in a hip or a knee that I had to watch. I'm not running frequently anymore but I'm doing squats and lunges and deadlifts, and I'm sure it's helped me. These legs are strong enough to do 10 miles.

My friend B joined me. She's a relatively new friend, on the Board of Directors. She's also never run 10 miles before, but was excited about the challenge. We talked about various athletic goals we want to set for ourselves and outdoorsy things we want to learn to do. She's looking for someone to learn whitewater kayaking with her. I suggested we start going to the rock gym together. We talked about triathalons, which I'd like to start considering after I run a half-marathon this summer. Until I know I can run a half-marathon I have kind of a mental block about setting other goals. "Let's run a half marathon next time!" she said. "Let's just go 13 miles. If we can do 10, we can do that." Hmm. It hadn't occurred to me to run it outside of a formal event. But of course we can.

Somewhere in that conversation I said something about coming late to athletics, and still feeling unsure about what my body can do, or how to muster the discipline and the courage to learn new things. I feel like other people are more outdoorsy and tougher and more athletic than me, and I'm more the bookish type. She said, "Oh my god. You're so much more outdoorsy and athletic than bookish! You completely come across that way." The vehemence with which she said it surprised me. It's so foreign to my self-image. "I'm pretty bookish, you know," was all I could think of to say.

It made me think about a conversation I had not long ago with a gentleman I was on a date with. He asked me whether there was a 'type' of guy I tend to date. I must have given him a puzzled look, because he said, "You know, do you only date tall guys? You're pretty tall, so you probably do, or is there some other feature you go for?" I was distracted by the idea that I'm tall. I'm not tall. I'm medium sized. 5'7". Is that tall? I don't think so. Anyway, I confessed to this guy, who was plenty tall and had a full head of hair, that I don't care too much about height but have a thing for bald men. But they're not the only ones I date. I turned the question on him. Any commonalities in the women he dates? He said, "Not really. Well, I guess they're all athletic." I rolled my eyes and grinned sheepishly and looked down at my plate. I'm the obvious exception to that. This guy was a serious athlete -- sponsored by athletic gear companies serious, earning money in events serious. But he said, "Come on, you're athletic. That hike we did? A lot of women couldn't have done that. You're strong. And you're really comfortable outside." I could see that he meant it. Me? It seemed so strange.

Athletic. It's not an adjective I'd use about myself. I'm bookish. Just like I'll always have some trepidation about going for a "hike" and I'll never use that word to describe the walking I do. I'll walk all day, up or down or through anything. "Hiking" is something that other people do. People who own lots of gear. People who are athletic.

Back in November I decided this would be the winter I really paid attention to cross-country skiing, and got confident at it. I got friendly with the XC ski coach at the college and started doing workouts in that team's special room. I set as my goal a 25K tour on March 4th, figuring there would be plenty of time to practice up for it. And I kept planning to do lots of skiing as soon as there was snow.

But there's been no snow. I've gone skiing exactly once, a six mile solo backcountry adventure that would have been better attempted on snowshoes. It was pleasantly tiring but not impossible. Instead of skiing I've been running and walking and doing yoga and lifting weights. I'm happy with the shape I'm in, generally, although I'm not yet close to as buff as I'd like to be this summer. Still, I'm not feeling exactly prepared to ski 25K.

I need to register today if I'm going to do it. It seems absurd and inconvenient -- it's 3 hours away, on my only free day, and I'll be flying to Montana the next day. I haven't trained at all. I won't get to ski before then. I'll be doing it alone, on crappy no-wax skis and poles that are too long. I am a clumsy skiier at best, prone to falling over on flat surfaces, and without much of a clue how to climb or descend hills. It will be cold and unpleasant; I will ache. I haven't been exercising outside for long periods of time much this winter, and I won't be confident about how to dress for it. I don't even have any idea how long it will take. Conditions are pretty crappy -- they have a base of only 4" to 10". There seem to be pretty valid reasons not to do it this year. My sincere intentions were foiled by the weather. Next year can be my year for cross country skiing.

And yet, and yet. I said I was going to do it, way back in November, and I haven't let go of it as a goal. I can do it. I'm sure I can. I'm sure it won't be fun, but it won't be terrible. I'll feel like an excuse-making wuss if I don't do it. I will feel proud of myself if I do it. I think I have to do it. The cross country ski coach will razz me if I don't do it. And I'll be disappointed with myself. Sigh. I'm going to sign up right now.